


Duckwatch

by aussiebee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ducklings - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, it's always fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 14:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15196406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aussiebee/pseuds/aussiebee
Summary: Derek takes Stiles to see ducklings. That's it. That's the fic.





	Duckwatch

**Author's Note:**

> Image/inspo credit to https://justhufflepuffthings.tumblr.com/post/156754475456/spring-hufflepuff-aesthetic

It was Saturday morning and it was fucking  _early_ , judging by the strength of light illuminating his room, but it was currently Derek serving as his wake up call, so Stiles really wasn’t surprised.

“Wassa matter?” he asked blearily, sitting up and scrubbing at his eyes with a hand as Derek crawled in through his window. “What’s the emergency?”

“Stiles, come with me,” Derek said, but rather than panicked he sounded… excited? “Just shut up and come with me,” he continued when Stiles opened his mouth to speak.  _“Ducklings.”_

Then he disappeared and left Stiles sitting in bed, confused and bewildered. But he got up and threw on clothes and shoes because, well, ducklings. He made his way downstairs and finally registered that Derek wasn’t really dressed for visiting, wearing nothing but basketball shorts and sneakers.

“If I have to be caught with you by the neighbours at –  _jesus_ , dude, five forty-five in the  _morning_  – you at least need a shirt.” He ducked into the laundry and pulled a freshly laundered tee from the dryer, throwing it at Derek with perhaps slightly more force than was necessary.

Derek rolled his eyes but did as ordered and pulled the shirt on, pausing a moment when it was stretched over his face to inhale deeply. Stiles blushed a little and looked longingly at the coffee pot, cold and empty, sitting winsomely on the bench.

“Get your keys,” Derek told him as he finished pulling the shirt on, “and I’ll take you for breakfast when we’re done.”

Stiles yawned and stretched his arms over his head until his shoulder popped. “Yeah, okay,” he said, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the bench and leading the way out of the house.

It wasn’t a long drive, just outside of town where the Preserve ended and open fields began, and the sun was just reaching the top of the trees when Derek told him to pull over. They jumped a fence and walked a little, past a tyre swing and carpets of dew-drenched yellow-hearted daisies, their footsteps soft and muffled on the damp grass, until Derek led them through a stand of trees to a small pond surrounded by clusters of white crocus and daffodils.

Derek’s hand flew out to halt Stiles’ forward momentum, his palm wide and hot against Stiles’ belly as his eyes fixed intently on the water. He shifted his hand to hook a finger in one of Stiles’ belt loops and slowly drew him forward, leading him to a fallen log and tugging him down until they were sitting side by side, pressed together from shoulder to hip.

“Watch,” he breathed, still watching the pond.

Stiles couldn’t see anything, not even after several long minutes of silence, so he decided that if Derek had brought him out at the asscrack of dawn for Duckwatch the least he could do was serve as a pillow. He leaned into Derek and rested his head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly when Derek hesitated before curling an arm around his lower back and around his hip.

It was another couple of minutes and Stiles was in serious danger of falling back asleep when Derek stiffened, his hand clutching briefly against Stiles’ hip where it had slipped a little beneath his shirt. Stiles glanced up at him and then over at the pond, a wide smile curling his mouth up when he saw the flock of five tiny, peeping, fluffy yellow duckings accompanied by their big white mama duck.

“I was running this morning and saw them,” Derek explained softly, the sounds of crickets and frogs and the wind in the trees the only other sounds for miles. He shifted a little, seemingly uncomfortable, until Stiles beamed up at him, eyes liquid copal in the early morning light.

“Dude, fluffy little balls of sunshine… wake me up anytime for that shit, okay?” The answering smile on Derek’s face was beautiful, and Stiles sat up a little and snuggled in closer. “Tell me if I’m way off-base,” he said quietly, watching Derek closely, “but if it’s okay with you, I’d really love to kiss you right now.”

Derek’s cheeks turned a particularly fetching shade of pink, but the taste of his mouth against Stiles’ was what really made the early morning excursion worth it.


End file.
